


"The future is wide open", a SW vignette of my OC character Nagina

by AzureAngel2



Series: Tyrian purple, a vignette collection concerning Palpatine´s niece (my OC) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Foster Care, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:39:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9355367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureAngel2/pseuds/AzureAngel2
Summary: Summary: A foster mother is deeply concerned about a former ward of hers. She even risks the wrath of a Sith lord.Time frame: The story takes place almost a week after the events of RotS, which are in 19 BBY.Planet of choice: ChandrilaDisclaimer: SW is owned by George Lucas, Lucas Ltd. and now The Walt Disney Company





	

**Title:** “The future is wide open”, a Nagina vignette

 

_So long child, I'm on my way_

_And after all is done, after all is done_

_Don't be down, it's all in the past_

_Though you may be afraid_

 

_So long child, it's awful dark_

_And I've never felt the sun_

_I dread to think of when_

_When the wind blows_

 

_When the wind blows_

_When the wind blows_

_When the wind blows_

 

_Life burns a savage wound, angry and wrought_

_Trusting a twisted word, you'll run, run away_

_You'll take him on home, you'll spin and taunt him_

_But they won't believe you, no matter what you'll say_

 

_So long child, it's awful dark_

_I never felt the sun_

_I dread to think of when_

_The wind blows_

 

_When the wind blows_

_When the wind blows_

_When the wind blows_

 

You wring your hands and gaze out of the window, watching the children. Their carefree laughter is music in to your ears. They roam through the balm grass. You could watch them for hours. Instead of computer games on the HoloNet they play _'Hide and Seek'_ , _'Mother, May I' and_ _'Capture the flag'_ together. The wind carries their laughter and their cheers.

 

This year you and your husband are taking care of five orphans that the Clone Wars created: a Rhodian boy, a Wookie girl, a Twi'lek twin and a human girl. The latter is the latest arrival. A redhead of three standard years.

 

You love them all, care for them as if they were blood of your own blood. But little Mara with her jade eyes needs your special protection. She is highly Force-sensitive and these are dangerous times for children like her.

 

About a week ago the entire Jedi order has been declared an enemy of the state. There has been a huge battle at their Coruscant temple. Unsettling rumours of arrests and even executions go around, even here on Chandrila. Death warrants are handed out by the new government, which calls itself the Galactic Empire.

 

Your gaze wanders away from the playing children into the blue and almost cloudless sky.

 

The only sort of Empire that you know from the history books is the Old Sith Empire. A ruthless dictatorship of dark side Force users.

 

You are fully aware who is responsible for creating the current monstrosity. And a part of you suspects he might have planned this coup all along. In your pedagogical field of work you have to be a good judge of character. From the first moment you met him you have felt he was rotten to the core.

 

You turn away from the window and walk to the open box that you dragged out from under the marital bed. On top of it is an old paper college block, filled with scribblings that one of your foster children made in her teenage years.

 

The calligraphy of Nagina is as flawless as her Futhork, the informal writing style of Naboo.

 

You read the text quote from a certain Jedi Master Ood Bnar aloud, just to be sure that you understand it properly.

 

_“_ _Evil began in a time before recorded history, when magicians made themselves into kings… and gods… using the power of the dark side of the Force. The weak minded have ever been ready to obey one who wields great power. Those who learned the power of the dark side were quick to exploit this weakness – to make war. Again and again, the dark side has surged forth, like a storm… devouring whole worlds and entire star systems. Those who mastered dark power became the dark power. They unleashed destruction, for no other reason than selfish gain. They despoiled nations… destroyed whole civilizations.”_

 

Another Hundred-Year Darkness seems to have come upon the known galaxy, while life on your farm goes on as it always has. Especially for the foster children in your household. Young ones who have already seen too much terror in their lives.

 

The past forty-five years you have been a safe harbour. First on Naboo, and later here on Chandrila.

 

The children which you take in usually come from dysfunctional families: domestic violence, severe neglect or abuse.

 

But the Clone Wars, even though they only lasted for three years, have brought a lot of changes and newly orphaned children to deal with to the foster care system. You and your husband give your best to cope.

 

You close the college block and look outside, into the rolling, grassy plains that reminded you so much of your home world. And of why you had to leave it.

 

“Mommy, I have to pee!” little Mara crows, looking a bit uncomfortable and wriggling around.

 

“Then hurry, love!” you advice the girl and off she bounds.

 

You look outside at the others again, now sitting in the grass and waiting for the return of their foster sister. They may be of different races and needed some time to settle down, but love and respect reign on this farm.

 

Nagina once thrived here, too.

 

Your heart turns heavy, when you think of your foster daughter, who is about to turn forty-one soon. Life has not been fair on her, but you and your husband tried to make a difference for her.

 

Actually, Nagina went into child care as well and became a kindergarten teacher. On Alderaan she got the necessary training and a fantastic university degree.

 

Yet stones are constantly put in her way by someone who should know better. Who owes her a thousand times, if not more.

 

For days you have delayed the HoloNet call, considering the possible outcome. Your husband already offered to place the call for you, but you begged him not to. His anger would make things worse. None of you knows whether the children will come to harm or not.

 

It would not be the first time that a member of House Palpatine oversteps the rules, acts against every possible Naboo tradition and honour.

 

You close your eyes and are brought back straight into a small office inside the Theed Capital Hospital. Once more you have a conference with a lady from social services, a member of the hospital council, the physician in charge, a prosecutor and someone from the NCPP, also known as the _Naboo Child Protection Program_.

 

If you concentrate enough, you hear their various reports again. Echoes in the back of your mind.

 

But then everything fades into the background and you remember a little form, floating in a bacta tank.

 

You struggle to leave the past behind and get back into the present.

 

Nagina needs you now more than ever.

 

You have to make that call.

 

And so you do.

 

There is no waiting queue, no secretary or aide holding you up. You are put through directly.

 

“Gita,” he says with a smile.

 

For a couple of heartbeats you stare at him.

 

Sheev is a couple of standard years younger than you, but he now looks like he is your great-grandfather. If you would not know any better, you would think you face severe substance abuse. The Jedi who stormed his office to assassinate him must really have given him quite a fight.

 

But this call is not about him or his disfiguring injuries. It is about Nagina.

 

“Your Majesty,” you reply, hoping that this is the correct term of addressing the former Supreme Chancellor from now on.

 

“For you just Sheev,” he purrs almost like a Token. “How may I be of service?”

 

He is a busy man. Has to be now that he is the Emperor. So you take the short cut. “Why Orson?”

 

It is a legitimate question and he knows that.

 

“They go way back,” he replies.

 

“Do you want her heart to be broken?” you press on, not adding all the other issues that you have with his extremely bad choice.

 

“You underestimate her inner strength,” he sighs.

 

“And you constantly wear her out, asking too much from her,” you decide, your arms crossed in front of your chest.

 

Your words are a bridge to the past.

 

Shortly around her third birthday Nagina had lost her birth mother, Mandré. Instead of doing the right thing, Sheev kept her like a precious gem. He hid her from the rest of the universe in the most unlikely places: the attic of his ancestral home, a boat house, the family hunting lodge and even a cellar. This insanity would have gone on, had not old Cosinga found out.

 

You bite your under lip, reminded of the scenario that followed next. An incident so foul it required getting you and your husband involved.

 

“Nagina needs a little bit of normality in her life, Sheev,” you state and do not squirm under his brooding look.

 

“Are you saying that Orson Krennic is not normal?” he challenges you.

 

“I doubt your judgement here,” you clip. “You of all people know that she has this urge to help others. Especially when she believes them to be lost in darkness.”

 

He says nothing.

 

“I have spoken to Orson's father recently.”

 

No reaction.

 

You try a different approach. “Let them at least come here so that I can speak to Orson myself.”

 

The yellow tinge in his eyes grows darker, more threatening. You see red blood vessels show up in them like spider webs. “I will consider it. If you swear to me that none of the things Nagina will tell you leave your farm. I do not wish for another blood bath.”

 

He really brings that up.

 

You swallow hard, while asking yourself if this is a threat or a peace offer. It might be a weather forecast as well, warning of heavy Force storms ahead.

 

Your foster daughter does not know that Sheev confessed to you what he did on-board the Palpatine family yacht. It is a secret between the two of you. You never even shared it with your husband. A promise is a promise.

 

Sheev rescued the five year old Nagina from the claws of his own father Cosinga. Something he was not able to do two standard years earlier. He did it his way, messy and brutal. The horror had left her soul marked. No child should watch the wrath of a Sith lord. And certainly not if he is the only one alive who is dear to her.

 

“Please, Sheev!” you say in a low voice. “Nagina loves you more than her own life.”

 

“Don't you think I am aware of that?” he snaps.

 

“Orson cannot be a substitute for you, even though you two share many character traits. This might not end well for her.”

 

Your former neighbour boy, now a well-esteemed engineer and high ranking Imperial officer, might be a charmer. But you witnessed many of his childhood tantrums. You even saw how he shot down the family dog for a test of his self-built laser gun. To know that he is the one looking after Nagina, his former babysitter, causes you sleepless nights.

 

“Consider your request noted, Gita!”

 

You are aware that Sheev will hang up on you any time now. He has had enough of your interference.

 

There is a strange noise in the background. It is half-mechanical, half-human. Your father once had an artificial lung like that.

 

“My new apprentice has arrived and I better take care of him now,” he informs you crisply.

 

Another Sith lord in the making. This is bad news for Nagina and the rest of the known galaxy. You wonder if she knows about him yet. Maul, Dooku, she had faced them all in her own brave way.

 

“Thanks for listening to my concerns,” you offer, not adding the description _'motherly'_. Not around a second Sith.

 

There is no answer from Sheev. He cannot afford one in the presence of his disciple. You are fully aware of that.

 

In order to understand the family background of Nagina you have read many scriptures on the Sith order. It was a fact that they knew nothing about good child care at all. It is a miracle that your foster daughter is still alive.

 

The HoloNet connection ends.

 

Outside, you can hear the children call Mara's name over and over again.

 

You reach deep into the pocket of your apron. There it is, the data chip that one of her new Lothal neighbours – a kind Ithorian – sent you.

 

_“_ _Hi mom! Hi dad!”_

 

Nagina beams into the camera, but you can see behind that smile. You always could.

 

_“_ _Imagine, Orson is here! Sheev send him. We are going to Scarif for a little holiday before the new kindergarten year starts. I will not be reachable for two weeks, but do not worry. I will be fine. Give Mara and the others my love. Bye!”_

 

Your fingers cramp around the little device.

 

There are so many things you do not know.

 

Besides, you have severe difficulties trusting Sheev with keeping Nagina safe, Emperor or not. And you trust ever ambitious and erratic Orson even less.

 

You hear laughter from outside.

 

Little Mara has joined her foster siblings again.

 

“Hope,” you mumble to nobody in particular.

 

You still have hope that Nagina will be safe from Orson's temper. Safe from the Sith apprentice. Safe from all the enemies that her uncle has undoubtedly made.

 

“There is always a new hope,” you say and decide to join your protégés outside.

 

After having faced the mummy-like appearance of Sheev Cosinga Aurelius Palpatine you need to feel the sun on your skin, want the wind to play with your hair. You leave your bedroom and walk downstairs.

 

The future is wide open still.

**Author's Note:**

> Sources:  
> A song by David Bowie (8 January 1947 – 10 January 2016) for the identically named anti-war movie "When the wind blows" (1986)  
> Wookieepedia – The Star Wars Wiki  
> Jedipedia, a free German Star Wars-Encyclopaedia


End file.
